Do No Harm
by pisces317
Summary: A patient isn't happy about the care they've received and are now out to get the doctor. Meanwhile, Eddie R is back in town and wreaking havoc with Hank's emotions. Hank whump.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Do No Harm**

**Summary: **A patient isn't happy about the care they've received and are now out to get the doctor. Meanwhile, Eddie R is back in town and wreaking havoc with Hank's emotions. Hank whump.

**Rating: **PG-13

**Characters: **Hank, Boris, Evan, Divya, Eddie R., OC's

**Pairing: **Potential Hank/Boris but other than that, none.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Royal Pains or any of its characters. However, I'm almost giddy that they've finally added some Hank!Whump to the show! :D

**Author's Note: **Some scenes may feel similar to those in my previous RP fic, The Stubbornness of Doctors, and for that I apologize but I won't rewrite them. ;-)

**RPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRP **

The morning was just beginning to dawn when Hank started to take his morning jog. The weather was still crisp which helped to keep him cool once his body started to heat up, something that he believed was a plus. He shivered a little as he began to walk up to the main house where he could exit, the chill in the air bringing goosebumps to his skin.

"Hank!" the familiar voice of Boris called out to him just as he started to jog, making him stop in his tracks. He turned his head slightly so that he could look at the German nobleman who was currently striding out of the front door. It didn't surprise Hank that Boris was already dressed in a crisp light grey suit with a baby blue shirt on underneath. No one knew what time Boris got up, but if Hank had to guess, he'd say it was around four in the morning.

"Could I borrow you for a moment?" Boris calmly asked. His smile was easy and friendly enough, but his eyes were sharp and focused on his surroundings, scanning for any signs of threat that could be seen.

Hank paused only a second before offering a smile in return and answering, "Sure, Boris, what's up?"

He followed the German into the mansion, making sure to keep with the taller man's longer strides so that he didn't miss anything. Boris led him into the kitchen area as he spoke, "One of my security is having a medical issue that I was hoping you could take care of."

It didn't take long for Hank to discover what it was Boris was referring to. In what only could have been described as the servant's dining room lay a man, grabbing at his throat with a look of panic on his face. The man was obviously one of Boris' well trained ex-Mossad security team, so it shocked Hank to see the look of fear on the man's face. But then again, choking can do that to any man so it shouldn't have.

"What happened?" Hank asked the other men as he rushed down to the downed man's side.

"We were eating breakfast and he suddenly started coughing and choking," one of the other men, Josef, answered in a thick Arabic accent. If it had been anyone else, any other group of men that he'd been surrounded by, Hank would have been unnerved by how calm and collected they were considering one of their comrades was choking, but Mossad agents were trained to remain calm in any situation no matter what it was.

Hank barely peered into the guy's mouth, which was hanging open as he struggled to breathe, before he quickly pulled out an epi pen. Just as he went to inject it a hand made of steel grabbed hold of Hank's wrist, stopping him from doing anything.

"You..do..not..touch..me..pig," the man choked out in a clearly thick Russian accent. As though to accentuate his point, the man squeezed Hank's captured wrist a little bit harder, making the doctor wince.

"I'm trying to help you. You're having an allergic reaction to something you ate," Hank tried to calmly explain. The fierce determination he usually held in his eyes when speaking to a stubborn patient was dimmed by the slowly growing pain in his arm, but he wouldn't yield. No man was going to die if he could help it.

"No," the man choked out, his face now growing purple. However his response – and Hank's answering cry of pain when the man tightened his grip even more – was drowned out by Boris' sharp voice.

"Ivan! You will release Doctor Lawson and allow him to treat you," he commanded with a steadiness that belied the anger that was hidden just underneath.

Unable to refuse a command, the man, Ivan, released Hank's wrist thus allowing Hank to save his life, but just barely. If the man had waited any longer, Hank wasn't sure he would have been able to keep him alive.

Once Ivan was breathing easier, Boris clamped a firm but not unkind hand on Hank's shoulder, gently pulling the doctor away from his patient. "Good," he said, obviously satisfied that his man had done what he'd been told. "Now, you _will _thank Doctor Lawson later and you _will _apologize to him for your behavior if you want to stay within my employ. I will arrange a time for you two to meet so that you may do so where I will be supervising, is that clear?"

"Boris, that's not nece-" Hank tried to say before he was cut off by the German.

"It is necessary Hank, and it will happen. I do not allow any of my men to behave that ungratefully to someone who has just saved their life. Now, come, I wish to speak with you."

Hank spared a look down at Ivan, who – thanks to the help of his comrades – was now sitting up and glaring murderously at Hank, before he turned and left through the door in which he'd entered.

The two men remained silent as they walked. Boris led the way to his upstairs office where he poured two glasses of scotch and then offered one to Hank.

"I am sorry about Ivan's behavior. He does not like Americans very much," he apologized, offering up his glass in a toast of sorts when Hank had grabbed his own and then taking a sip.

"Yeah, I got that," Hank replied, returning the toast and taking a sip. He winced as the liquid burned down his throat and then set the glass down. While he wasn't one to turn down a drink from his employer, and friend, he also wasn't the type to drink at barely seven in the morning.

"I hope he did not hurt you too badly," Boris said after setting down his own glass. His now-free hand motioned towards Hank's right hand as he spoke, letting the doctor know what he was referring to. "Ivan has a very strong grip and he has been known to inflict a substantial amount of pain with it."

Briefly, Hank looked down at his arm, unsurprised to see a red outline of a handprint still on his skin. Small bruises were starting to form where the tips of Ivan's fingers had been, but it was the hints of purples and reds that covered the top of his wrist that made him wince. He smiled shyly, knowing that Boris had seen the expression. "I've had worse," he appeased; an ER wasn't exactly known for its upstanding patients and so he had indeed had worse.

The smallest of frowns appeared on Boris' face at this statement. His eyes grew slighlty sad and he said the last thing Hank ever thought he'd hear the businessman say, "I am sorry to hear that."

It wasn't that Hank hadn't heard Boris say that, because he had, he'd just never heard it said with so much utter sincerity. Usually it was a passing thing he said that he didn't mean. But this time, Hank saw that he truly was saddened to learn that. It threw Hank for a moment, which left him with a gaping mouth for a few seconds before he had the presence of mind to close it.

"It happens when working in an ER," he replied, waving off Boris' comment.

At this, Boris smiled a knowing smile. It wouldn't surprise Hank if the man knew exactly what incident he was referring to; he was pretty sure that the German had had him personally investigated when he'd started living in the guesthouse and when Boris does something, he doesn't do it half way.

"Anyways," Hank said with an uneasy smile, "I'd better go."

"Of course," Boris granted, stepping forward to grab Hank's abandoned glass. "I will have Dieter call you with the details of the meeting with Ivan."

"Really, Boris, it's not necessary. I can understand his hatred, even if I don't condone it."

"Be that as it may, I don't tolerate anyone being disrespectful towards my guests or hurting them."

Something in the way Boris said that made Hank think that that rule could have only applied to himself, but he wasn't arrogant enough to fully believe it. He opened his mouth to say that he wasn't a guest but he soon realized it would be pointless. Neither Hank nor Evan were paying rent for the guesthouse, which was good because they probably couldn't afford it, and so as far as Boris was concerned, they _were _guests.

"Right," he said for lack of anything else better to say. "Well, let me know if you need me for anything else."

Boris nodded his assent that he would. "And you as well, Hank."

Hank gave a final wave of good bye and left, smiling as he did so. It always amused him how Boris tripped over his name, like it was hard for the nobleman to get out. He wasn't sure if Boris was just uncomfortable with being on a first name basis with Hank or if there was something else going on, but it made him smile each time.

He entered the guesthouse to find Evan snacking loudly on a bowl of Froot Loops while typing madly away on his phone.

"You do know those aren't healthy for you, right?" Hank asked, thus announcing his presence.

At the breakfast counter, Evan jumped. With his back to the door, he hadn't noticed his brother's entrance. "What are you talking about? These are healthy," he answered, choosing to not mention that he'd been surprised. "Look, there's eight vitamins and minerals."

Hank rolled his eyes, knowing full well that Evan had had this conversation with Jill already. Feeling his own stomach growl at him, Hank pulled down a box of Cheerios, then grabbed a spoon and bowl and poured himself some breakfast.

"How was your run?" Evan asked, handing over the milk that he'd left out on the table. His attention was still on his phone, though who he was talking to first thing in the morning, Hank could only guess.

"It was nonexistent," Hank answered before taking a bite of his cereal. He winced when his wrist sent a painful throb up his arm and then switched hands. When Evan looked over at him with his eyebrow raised in curiosity, Hank elaborated. "One of Boris' men had a medical emergency – I took care of it."

"Uh-huh, and would that have something to do with the massive bruise on your arm?" his brother asked, looking pointedly at Hank's wrist.

Hank shrugged. "The guy wasn't necessarily happy about me helping him. He tried to stop me."

"By smashing your wrist into the floor?" Evan guessed, obviously going by what he saw.

Again Hank rolled his eyes. Trust Evan to exaggerate even the smallest details. To give his brother another hint, Hank lifted his arm so that Evan could see the underside of his arm. Evan's eyes widened as his quick mind put things together.

"Is that a handprint?" he asked in half amusement, half impression.

"What? The guy was strong," Hank defended, not happy to see a smile beginning to break out on his brother's face. He was almost hurt by Evan's complete lack of sympathy seeing as had the situations been reversed, Hank would have been furious, but he supposed that was just Evan. He tended to take things lighter than Hank did and so things rolled off his back a lot quicker than they did Hank's. Besides, Evan hadn't spent most of his life trying to protect Hank – Hank had.

Something of his feelings must have transferred into his expression because Evan slowly began to sober up. He turned so that he was facing Hank, who was finishing his last bit of cereal.

"Okay, well, are you okay?" he asked, clearly placating Hank. "I see that you aren't using it to eat, so you must not be. How badly did he hurt you?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say it's nothing more than a deep bruise," Hank supplied with a sigh, still hearing the joking tone in his brother's voice.

"Okay?" Evan returned, clearly not getting what that meant.

Again, Hank rolled his eyes. He got up and rinsed out his bowl, placing it in the sink as he answered, "It means that it hurts, Evan. It hurts to move it, and it hurts to hold things, but otherwise I'm fine."

Evan remained quiet while he studied Hank a moment. Then, as though breaking out of a trance, he drew in a deep breath. "Okay, well are you okay enough to see your patients today or should I see if Divya can handle them?"

"No, I'll be fine. I just need a shower and to wrap it and I'll be ready to go."

He started to walk away before Evan could respond. In the background he could hear Evan justifying his questions and saying something about making a big deal out of nothing, but he didn't pay attention to it. He honestly wasn't sure how he'd expected Evan to react and therefore he really didn't have a right to be surprised or hurt by how little Evan had seemed to care.

_Don't be ridiculous, you know Evan cares about you, _his rational mind scolded. And it was true. He knew that Evan cared and loved him. And he knew that had the situations been reversed, Hank would have been pissed at Boris' guy, but he also would have given his brother shit about it as well. It was exactly what Evan had done, now that he thought about it.

Hank showered quickly and dressed in record time. He wasn't in a hurry but his frustration over his earlier reaction had made him feel the need to just get out of the house and on with the day. After pulling an ACE bandage out of his bedside table's drawer, he began to wrap his wrist. It was hard to bandage one's own hand, especially if you were used to doing it with the efficiency and training of a doctor, but Hank managed to make it work. If all else failed, he'd ask Divya to redo it for him later in between patients.

When he went back downstairs, it was to find Divya standing alone in the kitchen.

"Where's Evan?" he asked as he grabbed his medical bag and went to join her.

"He said he had a meeting and then left," Divya replied as though that was a common occurrence. Her brows wrinkled as she looked down at his wrapped wrist. "What happened to your hand?"

"Bruised it pretty badly this morning," Hank answered, making it sound like it was no big deal. He gave her a smile as he held his arm out towards the patio door, "Shall we?"

She smiled back at him and, grabbing her purse, said, "Of course." They began walking towards where Hank's SAAB and her Mercedes was parked. "Whom are we seeing first today?"

"Ms. Newburg." They shared a smile for their most common patient. At first Ms. Newburg had been an annoyance, but after a few more visits, Hank and Divya had discovered that she was a sweet and caring lady and so began to like her.

"What's wrong this time?" Divya asked, pulling out her PDA and opening Ms. Newburg's patient file.

"Nothing, actually. She just wants a check-up. Apparently she's going to have this party in honor of a guest and she wants to make sure everyone in her house is healthy before she throws it."

"I see she's learned from the whole Cofax fiasco," Divya answered with a smile.

They climbed into her Mercedes, sharing yet another smile. Once she started the car, Hank looked out the window and up at the second floor where he saw Boris taking a break out on the patio that connected with his personal office. He quickly looked away when he noticed that Boris was looking at him, unsure what to think of that.

"I'd say she has," Hank finally said once they were at the gate. He again averted his gaze when he noticed Ivan glaring at him as they left, choosing to remain determined to look out the windshield from now on.

"Okay then. Let's go see Ms. Newburg."

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

The day passed as it should – quickly and with no emergencies to contend with. Thanks to help from Divya, Hank hadn't really needed to do much except for gently examining each patient and then giving instructions. He suspected that Divya had been trying to keep him from over-using his injured hand, but he couldn't prove it. All he could do was be grateful to her and he was. She'd helped divert Ms. Newburg's attention when she'd noticed that Hank was hurt, and she'd continued to do that throughout the day, saving Hank from a lot of blushing and lies. He'd heard from Evan a few times over the day, but neither time had the CFO explained who he'd had to meet which made Hank a little uneasy; Evan was the kind of person who babbled over the potential new patients he'd acquired which made his secrecy unsettling.

As he'd thought, he'd had to have Divya re-wrap his wrist because he'd done a crap job of it by himself. Just like with Evan, he'd seen her expression change when she noticed the makings of a handprint, but unlike Evan, she didn't say anything about it. Which was why, when she dropped him off he wasn't surprised that she locked the car and turned off the engine.

"Tell me what happened to your wrist," she evenly demanded. Her tone was firm but her eyes were kind, showing that she was worried and nothing more.

"A patient didn't like the service he was getting," Hank replied vaguely, seeing no point in hiding it.

"Was it not enough?" she asked, confused.

"No, it was that he was getting it at all actually."

At this she laughed and he didn't blame her. Ivan's reaction was ridiculous considering the man was choking. Hank wondered what had happened that made the man hate Americans like he did, and he also wondered why the man was working for Boris, who lived in America, if that was the case.

"He sounds like an idiot," she said with a slight smile in her voice.

"I wouldn't say an idiot, but, yeah an idiot."

She laughed again, this time unlocking the car and letting them both out into the cool night air. "Well, I trust that I won't have to worry about anymore encounters then? The last thing I want is to get a call from a panicked Evan because you're badly hurt."

"I think the last thing _anybody _wants is to get a call from a panicked Evan," Hank joked, knowing that he couldn't make any promise about not seeing Ivan again. He sincerely hoped that there wouldn't be any problems, but he also didn't like the way the man kept looking at him. It was almost as if the guy was secretly planning ways to, at best hurt Hank and at worst kill Hank while making either look like an accident.

She laughed at his joke, but it was less boisterous as the previous one, showing Hank that she was serious in her concern. He sighed, "Look, you know me. I can't promise not to help a patient, even if they don't want it."

"I suppose that's true," she conceded, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to find a way to get him to make the promise anyways.

"You want to stay for dinner?" he offered, thinking that a change in subject was in order.

"Dinner?" she asked, almost scoffed. "With you and Evan? Won't I need a hardhat and a tarp?"

"Are you saying that eating with us is like war?" he asked, catching on to her meaning.

"Working with you two is like war. I can't imagine what eating with you two would be like."

"Well, now's your chance to find out," he returned with a smile before he started walking down to the guesthouse. He didn't have to look back to know that she was following him. Her shoes squelched on the recently watered grass and every once in a while he could hear her curse as she slid a little down the hill.

They reached the guesthouse to find it aglow, providing a beacon in the slowly darkening night. Every light, it appeared, in the house was on, including those on the patio. It looked as though Evan were putting on a party of his own, except the only people Hank knew to be invited were Evan, Hank and now Divya.

"What's all this? Did you two plan this?" Divya asked as they entered the patio.

"Definitely not," Hank replied, more than a little surprised himself. He stopped dead when he saw just who was standing on the patio, playing pool with Evan.

"Hey kiddo," Eddie R. Lawson greeted with an easy smile on his face. "Look at you. You look good."

Hank took a few minutes to process the fact that his father was currently standing in front of him with the world's biggest smile on his face.

"What?" Eddie pouted. "No hug?"

Without thought for how it would feel, Hank slugged his father. It was when pain tore through his wrist that he remembered he shouldn't have done that, but he also couldn't care. As far as Hank was concerned, it was payback for what Eddie R. had done to Evan and Hank's mom when he'd left.

"Hank!" Divya cried, startled by Hank's behavior. She went over to Eddie, who was struggling to get off the ground.

"No, it's alright," Eddie waved off, "I deserved that."

His cheek bled where Hank had hit him, but he didn't try to do anything to staunch the blood. Instead, he continued to stand where he was, in front of Hank, and stare at his son.

Hank remained where he stood, cradling his right hand against his chest while he waited for the pain in his wrist to calm. His mind raced with questions that he wanted to ask but he didn't know where to start. He was half tempted to punch his father again, but Divya stepped in, changing the plan.

"Here, sit down and let me look at that," she ordered. She pushed Eddie into a nearby chair and gently examining his cheek. She looked at Hank, half accusing him, half surprised. "He'll need a few stitches. How hard did you hit him?"

"Who hit who?" Evan asked, coming onto the patio. His eyes bulged when he took in his father's bleeding and bruised cheek and he turned on his brother, "You hit him?! What for? Do you hate him that much?"

"Evan, stop, it's alright," Eddie soothed, holding up his hand to shush Evan. "Like I told your friend here, I deserved it."

Hank watched as Evan's mouth opened to say something, but after one look from both Divya and Hank and he shut it again. Anger burned in his eyes, searing holes through Hank as he walked back into the guesthouse to make an ice pack for his father.

"Here, hold that to your cheek while I go get a suture kit," Divya instructed, waiting for Eddie to take the gauze before she left. On her way into the cottage, she stopped by Hank and whispered, "Are you alright?" He looked down at her, questioning what exactly she meant because she could be quite perceptive when she wanted to be. "Your wrist, did you hurt it more?"

"No, I don't think so," he answered, refusing to say that he was fine because he wasn't. In all honesty, he wasn't sure if he'd injured his wrist more or not, but he also couldn't think clearly at the moment either, so he lied.

She nodded then went inside to grab the kit. Both she and Evan came out at the same time, each with their items in hand. Evan held onto the ice pack while Divya stitched the cut, quietly fuming and waiting to tear Hank a new one.

"What's wrong with your wrist, Henry?" Eddie asked, noticing the bandage.

"Nothing," Hank answered, refusing to give his father any information that he didn't deem necessary.

Unfortunately, Evan didn't seem to agree with Hank and so he answered honestly, "Some guy tried to stop him from administering medical aid. You should see the bruise; it's almost a thing of beauty. And the handprint is like the size of bigfoot's hand," he trailed off at a glare from Divya and then asked, "What?"

"How bad is it?" Eddie asked, his sole focus now on Hank, something that Hank did _not _want.

"It's nothing. I'm fine," Hank answered, throwing a glare of his own over at Evan.

His brother merely rolled his eyes and answered for him again, "He told me this morning that if he had to guess it was just a bad bruise."

"Speaking of which, I should probably take a look at it," Divya said, setting down the soiled needle, thread and stripping off her gloves. She placed a bandage over the stitches and moved, allowing Evan room to step in and hand his father the ice pack.

"Divya, I'm fine," Hank placated with an awkward smile. The throbbing that had started at the punch hadn't really died down, despite his attempts to let it. Thankfully, he'd had other things on his mind and so the pain hadn't truly registered in his mind, but now that everyone else was focused on it, so was his mind. Pain briefly wrinkled his forehead, dimming the effect of the smile just enough to tell his PA that he was lying.

Obviously not believing him, Divya rolled her eyes and sighed. "Doctors really are the worst patients, aren't they?" she commented as she gently steered Hank to one of the lawn chairs.

Instinctively, Hank settled against the chair, stretching out in it while she went and grabbed a more upright one for her to sit in. Hank wasn't one to believe that money was everything, but he had to admit that it sometimes did help. The chair was made of the softest fabric; it practically absorbed your body, cushioning every major joint possible while still allowing your skin to breathe.

"Evan, go make another ice pack for Hank," Divya instructed as she sat down and gingerly grabbed Hank's injured hand.

"Why? Did he hurt it more?" Evan asked, trying to peer over her shoulder.

"I don't know," she replied in a tone that spoke of how annoyed she was getting, making Hank smile. He knew that everyone thought Evan nothing more than an energetic child, and while he was inclined to agree, he also knew the more serious side of his brother; it didn't appear very often, but it was there, you just had to find it. "But chances are that either way it hurts and could use the numbing."

"Here, use mine," Eddie offered. Slowly, he got up and offered his ice pack to Evan, wobbling just a little as he moved.

"Dad, you okay?" Evan asked, noticing the unsteady walk. He went over to his father and grabbed Eddie's left arm, helping to hold him steady.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, just a little off balance is all."

"Mr. Lawson, if you're dizzy you shouldn't be trying to walk," Divya lightly scolded while keeping her attention on unwrapping Hank's wrist. "Now, please sit down and wait for it to subside; I don't need two stubborn Lawson patients."

"Hey," Hank objected with a small pout. "I'm not stubborn and I'm not a patient. What I am is fine," he argued. The argument fell flat on its ass when she pressed over a darker portion of the bruise and he cried, "Ow!"

"Sorry," she apologized, her eyes never leaving his hand. She gently continued her examination for another few seconds before she grabbed a spare pillow from the lawn chair next to Hank's and used it to elevate his arm. "Well, Doctor Lawson. There are many things you are, but fine is not one of them."

"What do you mean? What's wrong with him?" Evan asked. Currently he sat in a chair on the other side of Hank's lawn chair, sitting in between his brother and his father who coincidentally sat in the lawn chair to Hank's left.

"I'll need to get a couple of x-rays, but I'm fairly certain that he's fractured his wrist."

"Dang, Dad, your head must be hard," Evan joked and the laughed at his own joke. When no one else joined in, he stopped and cleared his throat. "Right, so, do we need to go to Hampton's Heritage right away or should we wait until the morning?"

Both Hank and Divya stared at Evan like he was crazy.

"Ev, we run a concierge medicine practice," Hank slowly informed. He hissed when Divya moved his pillowed arm onto his own lap rather than hers, drawing another look of apology from the PA. She grabbed the ice pack from Eddie R. and then placed it over Hank's wrist as a form of peace offering.

"I know," Evan said. "It was my idea, remember?"

"Actually it was my idea, you just happen to steal it," Divya corrected, standing up. "What Hank's point is, Evan, is that I have a portable x-ray machine just for this type of occasion. Just give me a few minutes to get it." She looked down at Hank with her most stern doctor's face, "Make sure you keep that ice on your wrist, and no more punching people, got it?"

Hank chuckled a little at her demand. "Yeah, I got it. I think we can all place nice for now." At this he looked at his dad and brother for confirmation even though he knew that it was him and only him that technically had the problem.

"Good, I'll be right back."

"So," Evan began, quickly uncomfortable with the silence once Divya had left. "Anybody hungry? Thirsty? Anything?"

"You know, now that you mention it, I could use something to drink. Do you got any beer?"

"Uh, no," Hank objected instantly, his medical training taking over. He shifted a little so that he could face his father and his brother a little better. "You could have a concussion, Dad, you can't have alcohol."

"Okay, well, what about iced tea? And some aspirin?"

Evan, not wanting to get in trouble for giving his father something he shouldn't have, looked at Hank for approval.

"Iced tea is fine, but you can have Tylenol, not aspirin."

"Why not?" Eddie asked, bringing a hand to dramatically rub his forehead.

"Because we don't have any," Evan answered, giving Hank a slight smile, knowing that was the reason his brother said no.

"Exactly," Hank agreed. He leaned his head against the chair and closed his eyes. The ice was helping to numb the pain in his arm, but it couldn't touch the pain in his heart whenever he looked at his father.

That was the problem with being the oldest. When your father leaves, you feel like you and you alone have to take care of the rest of the family. You feel like you have to shield your younger brother from the ugly truth that your father isn't coming back, and then you have to shield him from the wolves of the world, who would pick on him or hurt him because he was skinny and poor. You feel like you have to protect your sick and dying mother from the truth that her husband couldn't stomach the sight of seeing her as she was and so left to spare himself.

Yes, Hank knew that was the reason why Eddie R. had left. For a while he'd thought that it was because his father didn't love Hank's mother, but after a few years he'd discovered that it was quite the opposite. He loved her so much that watching her grow weak and die hurt too much and he couldn't take it. It didn't excuse the fact that he left and let Hank take on the burden of the family, but it did help Hank to understand it a bit more.

When Hank looked at his father now, older and trying to make amends, his stomach rolled and his heart gave a painful pound. There was no amends that Eddie R. could make that would make Hank forgive him for what he did. Long ago Hank had absorbed the pain his mother had felt at her husband abandoning his boys and her, and he'd absorbed the pain that Eddie R. had caused Evan. Whenever Hank had a nightmare, it was of his brother crying himself to sleep every night, sleeping in front of the front door, waiting for their father to come back and wasting away before Hank's eyes because Eddie R. didn't.

"Hank?" Evan's voice called to him through his thoughts. When Hank didn't respond, he tried again, "Henry?"

"What, Evan?" Slowly, he opened one eye and found both his brother and father staring at him in concern.

"Do you need me to get you anything?" Evan offered, looking uncomfortable. "You look like you're in some pain there?"

"I do?" Hank questioned, confused. It was when a teardrop fell down his neck that Hank realized he'd been silently crying. He didn't know how long he'd been crying but if he had to guess it was when he recalled the image of his little brother waiting for a man who would never show. "Oh," he said, quickly wiping the water away, "no, I'm fine. Just get Dad what he needs."

Evan nodded and walked into the guesthouse, leaving Hank and his father alone.

"You okay, kid?" Eddie R. quietly asked, his concern more than Hank could swallow.

Hank slowly turned his head to look at his father. His blue eyes were hard and unforgiving as he answered, "No, Dad, I'm not."

The gate to the patio opened and Divya's heels tapped on the stone, stopping any further conversation but Hank knew from the remorse and sadness in his father's eyes alone that he'd understood what Hank had been trying to say.

"Alright," Divya said, setting the x-ray machine up right beside where Hank was sitting. "Now, you know the drill so I'm not going to explain it to you. The ice should have done its job and numbed your wrist pretty good so this shouldn't hurt at all."

Gently, she separated his arm from the pillow and set it down on the table. She positioned it so that she could get a better look at the bones she thought were fractured and then she went over to the computer, which Evan had somehow managed to set up right beside Eddie R. without any of them noticing.

"One, two, three," Divya counted before the machine made a clicking sound. Moving from her spot at the computer and over to readjust Hank's wrist, she moved it again so that she could get another view and then went back to the computer. She counted off again then the machine clicked for a second time. "Okay, you're done."

"That's it?" Eddie asked, looking amazed at the little machine and then back to the computer where Divya was looking at the results. "Boy, I remember when taking x-rays was a lot longer process."

"That's the beauty of technology, Dad, it's always advancing," Evan answered, clasping a hand on his father's shoulder and giving it a squeeze. He looked over his shoulder at the computer and asked, "So, Divs, what's the diagnosis?"

Divya sighed and took off her glasses, "Well, it's like I'd thought. You've got a hairline fracture in your capitate bone. It's not bad so I don't think you'll need a cast. But you _will _need a brace and to be careful how you use your hand until it heals because if you hurt it worse, you _will _get a cast whether you want it or not."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Hank replied, rolling his eyes for extra emphasis.

"I know you know," Divya responded. "That was for your brother and father, just in case I needed witnesses."

Beside her, Evan and Eddie R. shared a knowing smile.

"Witnesses?" Hank asked, gently pulling his arm off the table and putting it back on his lap. Sometime during the procedure, the pillow had fallen to the ground so he settled for simply laying it on his legs, wincing as the dull ache sharpened when his wrist was moved.

Rolling her eyes in impatience, Divya grabbed the fallen pillow and placed it under Hank's arm. "Yes, witnesses. Like you said earlier, Hank, I know you. You will help a patient in need with no thought of your own health. It's an admirable trait, but it does you no good if you're already injured so I want you to think about my warning each time you see a patient."

For a minute Hank said nothing. He was stunned at her show of concern and insight to how he handled patient care. It wasn't that he didn't care about his own health – he really did actually – it was that his doctor's instincts were to put the patient in need first and himself second. It's how he worked and it was what made him a good doctor.

Taking his silence for agreement, Divya nodded her head in satisfaction. "Good, now stay there while I go get a brace for you."

She went into the guesthouse/their office and returned quickly with a black brace. It had five Velcro straps; four that secured the brace around the arm and one that went around the hand. Hank stifled a groan when he saw what she'd grabbed. He highly doubted that he would have trouble remembering to be careful with that thing strapped to his arm, and he was pretty sure that was the point.

He gasped when she secured the brace, unable to stop himself. The numbing effects of the ice had slowly started to wear off since the x-ray and he was beginning to feel every slight jerk, pull or push of his wrist. He knew the compression would eventually feel nice, but getting to that point was a pain.

"There, all done," Divya announced with a smile. "Now then, I believe I was promised dinner?"

"You were?" Evan asked then looked down at Hank, "She was?"

"Yes, she was, why do you think she's here?" He winced as he slowly got out of the lawn chair, doing his best not to use his dominant hand. Completely ignoring his father, Hank went into the kitchen, looking for the dinner that he knew Evan had prepared.

"I don't know," Evan defended, following his brother and Divya. "Maybe you guys had some doctor things you needed to discuss or something, how am I supposed to know?"

On the kitchen island sat a small platter with six chicken breasts, a bowl of pasta, and another bowl of sauce. Even from a distance Hank knew that it wasn't just a plain meal. The chicken had obviously been marinated in a thin tomato sauce of some sort because they had a red hint to them and there were sliced tomatoes on top of them with what looked like parsley sprinkled around the plate. The sauce appeared to be the juice left over from the marination; it was thinner than the average tomato sauce but it smelled delicious, making both Hank and Divya's stomachs growl.

"Smells good, doesn't it?" Evan asked with a broad grin.

"It smells divine," Eddie R. answered from behind Hank and Divya. Thinking that he'd remained on the patio, the two jumped at the sound of his voice in their ears. "What is it?"

"It's chicken marsala, at least according to the recipe." Evan walked over to his little spread and grabbed a plate, fork, knife and then the serving spoon. Holding the spoon up, he looked at the group, "Well? What are you waiting for? Dig in!"

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**And here's the next chapter - sorry it took me so long to get it posted! Hope you all enjoy! **

* * *

The meal was consumed in quiet. Normally there would be friendly chatter and banter, but the presence of their father made the atmosphere uncomfortable. Once or twice Divya had tried to engage the brothers in conversation, but while Evan was more than willing to talk, Hank was not. He spent the time he wasn't looking at his plate or at Divya, glaring at his father. Oddly enough, he refused to look at Evan for the most part; whenever he did there was such sadness in his eyes that it made Divya's heart ache for him.

Over the past year, she'd learned a bit about the Lawson brothers and their past, just like they had learned about some of hers. Hank had told her about his father leaving at a time when they needed him, and he'd spoken of his mother and her passing. The tears that had clouded his eyes when he spoke of her had made Divya's own eyes well up with tears in sympathy. She'd come to think of Hank as a good friend, almost like a big brother for that was how he treated her at times, and the pain he felt hurt her as well.

What was puzzling was that, while she understood the glares towards his father, she was baffled by the sadness when he looked at Evan. It wasn't just sadness, although that was most present; there was also a hint of betrayal in them as well. Why did he feel betrayed by Evan? Surely the younger Lawson hadn't brought their father here, had he? He'd been pretty young when their father had left, but he had to have remembered what happened, didn't he? Or maybe she only had one brother's side of the story?

Divya discreetly shook her head, clearing it of the questions. It wouldn't do any good to dwell on them now. Although Hank often credited her with a keen and inquiring mind, both Lawson's were just as bad, and were just as perceptive as she was. She didn't want either of them noticing that she was studying them because then she'd never get any answers – well, none that she could use anyways.

Instead, she chose to focus on Hank, who was having trouble cutting his chicken. Every time he tried, his eyes pinched and his mouth tightened in pain, but he refused to ask for help or allow his father to help when he'd offered. She decided that he had a high tolerance for pain because he had yet to ask for something for it; and given how much he was trying to use it, she knew his wrist had to be hurting enough for him to need it.

Silently, she held out her hand towards Hank's knife and fork, and then she waited for him to hand them over. Hazel eyes flicked up at her, hard with frustration, anger and hurt. Still, he didn't deny her unspoken command and handed over his knife, fork and plate.

After she'd finished cutting the chicken, the meal went even faster. Hank didn't appear to be very hungry, but Evan and Eddie inhaled their food like they'd been starving for days. When the two men went into the kitchen to rinse off their plates and bond some more, Divya leaned in closer to Hank.

"Are you alright?" she asked, unable to stop herself. She was worried about her friend; not only his physical health but his emotional one as well.

His stone-faced expression never changed as he turned his attention from his father walking away to her and answered, "No, I'm not."

Not having expected such honesty, she started for a moment. Once the surprise wore off she reached out and grabbed his uninjured hand within her own and gave a gentle squeeze. "Well, let me know if you want to talk. I'm always here, Hank."

This softened him a little, but only a little. He gave her a smile that felt more cold than it did genuine and squeezed back. "Thanks Divya."

"Any time," she granted with a warm smile. Boisterous laughing echoed from within the guesthouse, drawing both of their attention. She felt Hank's body freeze at the sound and his hand squeezed just a little bit more in reaction. Once he'd relaxed, she offered another smile. "I should go. We have an early morning."

"Of course," he answered, seeming to barely register her presence any more. Still, he stood and walked her to the door of the patio.

"I meant what I said," she reiterated once they'd started walking on the grounds. "Call me if you need anything; even if it's just a go-between."

"Thanks, Divya, I appreciate it, but I think I can handle it on my own."

For some reason his answer struck a chord with her and she felt a protective side flare. "No, you've _had _to handle things on your own. Since then your family has grown and it's no longer just you and Evan. You have me too, and I don't mind helping. Lord knows you and Evan have been there for me whether I wanted you there or not. Now it's my turn to be there for you two."

Hank remained silent at this and she let it linger. She knew better than anyone the comfort silence could bring, especially when there was nothing more left to say. Beside her, she heard Hank inhale as though he were going to say something then he just blew the breath back out, slowly and measured.

They made it to her SUV, still walking in comfortable silence. The lights of the castle – or was it a mansion? – shone brightly over them both, casting playful shadows on the stone drive.

"Thank you for walking me, you didn't have to," she said, opening her car door and watching as he seemed to dig deep to find a hint of a smile.

"It's not a problem," he dismissed. He awkwardly dug into his pants pocket for his phone with his left hand and then held it up. "Besides, I think Boris wants a meeting."

"Ah, so you weren't being chivalrous, you had an alternate agenda," she teased.

This time he laughed; it was a little dry, but it at least it was genuine. "Yeah," was all he said though. He inhaled deeply and then said, "Well, I'd better go. It's never a good thing to keep Boris waiting."

"Of course. I'll see you in the morning. Take care of yourself until then, got it?"

"What's with this complete lack of trust in me?"

"It's not that I don't trust you," Divya protested, getting into her car and closing the door. She smiled when he smiled, more like himself, "It's that I don't trust you."

She started her car and drove away with a smile on her face and his laughter following her out of the gate.

* * *

"Hank?" Boris called to his private physician who was currently standing in the driveway with a strained smile on his face, watching his Physician Assistant leave. He'd watched their parting with interest, listening to what was said. He'd seen them leaving the cottage from his balcony, and his almost unhealthy obsession with the doctor led him to continue watching them.

When Hank wasn't looking, his forehead was wrinkled in concern as he took in the doctor's braced wrist. He sincerely hoped that Ivan hadn't caused the need for the brace because if he had, there would be consequences – a firing for starters.

"Yes, sorry," Hank apologized, appearing to snap back to reality.

"It's quite alright," Boris easily forgave. "Is everything alright? You looked deep in thought."

"Yeah, sorry," he apologized again. He sighed, and offered an almost cold smile. "So, what was it that you needed?"

Boris dipped his head towards the house, indicating that they should go inside. Without waiting to see if Lawson was following him, he turned on his heel and went inside, heading towards his private office. Since Hank couldn't see his expression, he frowned.

Something was clearly troubling the doctor. When he'd first come to live at Shadow Pond, Boris had had Hank investigated. Within a day, Boris had found out about Hank's past, his absentee father, his deceased mother, and his younger brother who closely resembled an over-excited puppy. Earlier in the day Boris had seen the younger Lawson return with a guest. Knowing Hank's past as Boris did, he'd wager that the guest had been none other than the absentee father. Hank had a steady character; if the mere presence of a person could throw him as off balance as he currently appeared, it would be Edward R. Lawson.

Dieter opened the door to the office and Boris threw the man a slight nod of thanks. Despite what others believed, he wasn't an ungrateful man. He appreciated each and every man under his employ and he did his best within his power to make sure that they were taken care of whether or not they were able to work for him.

Feeling more than a little drained by the day, Boris went to one of the loveseats in the room. He stood, waiting for Hank to enter and Dieter to close the door before he showed how truly tired he felt and fluidly collapsed onto the couch. He smiled when Hank's brows furrowed in concern.

"Are you feeling alright Boris?" the doctor asked, coming closer to Boris so that he could, presumably, examine him.

Not wanting the man to focus on him, Boris held up his hand in a 'wait' gesture. "I'm fine, Hank," he assured. "Just a bit tired from the day's meetings." He smiled again when the doctor didn't move. "Truly, Hank, I am alright." He waved a hand towards the loveseat to his right which was perpendicular to the one he was sitting in. "Please, sit."

Hank looked over at the seat being offered for a moment, his eyes looking just as tired as Boris felt with every passing second, before he looked back at Boris. "Actually, if it's not a medical emergency, I think I'd prefer to stay standing."

The determination that Boris had come to expect from the young doctor was still there, radiating in his stance, in the expression on his face and in the coolness of his beautiful hazel eyes. But underneath all that, pain soundly slept, settling into the doctor's eyes, into the slight wrinkles on his forehead and around his mouth, and softening his stance just enough to announce its presence. Boris felt it pouring off the man in front of him; he felt it crash into his pores and simply seep into his skin.

However, mentioning his observations to his friend was not something Boris was comfortable with doing, if he wanted information. Hank was a private man; he refused to give more details than was necessary, sometimes choosing to hide behind his doctor-patient confidentiality or simply using his job as a way to distract Boris from the current topic. Besides, if Boris were to mention the things he'd noticed, then Hank would know exactly how closely Boris observed him and while he knew exactly how he felt about the doctor, he wasn't positive that the man returned his feelings. Boris was known for not making a move unless he was sure it was the right one, and expressing an interest in a man whom Boris believed to be straight was not the right move.

"Very well," Boris replied, showing Hank that he wasn't offended by the declination. "Am I mistaken or did I see your father entering the guesthouse earlier this afternoon?"

_Bullseye, _Boris thought when he noticed that Hank straightened even more. Even still, Boris smiled, "Don't worry, Hank, this is not an interrogation. I am merely trying to make conversation."

"You don't have to worry. He won't come near you," Hank confidently assured.

"Oh, I'm not worried about that, I know that Edward Lawson won't get close to me," Boris casually waved off Hank's concern. "No, I'm actually more concerned about how this will affect you."

"Me?" Hank asked, clearly shocked that Boris had even thought of him or what his father's return had meant for him.

"Yes. As I'm sure you know, I'm well aware of what happened in your past and I know what your father has done to you and your family. So it is natural to wonder how you are handling his return."

The way he explained it made it sound almost natural that Boris should be inquiring after Hank's well being, but if anything it was much more than that; the problem as far as Boris was concerned was that only he knew how much deeper the question went.

Apparently, something of his true feelings shone through Boris' curious expression because Hank's head slightly cocked to his right. His mouth hung open for a few seconds as he thought about whatever it was that was going through his head. And then he seemed to come back to the present and his usual, doctor persona returned.

"I'm handling it fine," Hank finally answered. The dismissive way in which he said it did nothing to dissuade Boris' opinion that things were quite the opposite.

"I see. And you would say something if that wasn't the case?" he asked even though he knew immediately that his friend would lie.

"No, I wouldn't, but that doesn't change the facts," Hank replied, surprising Boris with telling him outright that he would never tell him the truth. "And the facts are that he's returned and that he won't be staying long."

Ah, so that was why Hank was pretending to be fine; he didn't expect his father to remain in the Hamptons. It made sense; given the older Lawson's track record, he probably wouldn't stay long. But if Boris has learned anything from his years of doing business, it was that people could surprise you when you least expected it or wanted it.

"I see," Boris said, somewhat revealing what he thought of the situation. "And how is your wrist? You seem to have upgraded your diagnosis from earlier."

"Oh, no, I hadn't. It was just badly bruised, but then something happened and I ended up fracturing it." As he spoke, he fingered the black brace, as though tempted to undo the strands around it. At the end of his speech, he gripped the injured wrist for a second, and then released it with a grimace that Boris knew he hadn't wanted to show. He blushed, just as he had done earlier this morning, and said, "It's a bit tender, but it's fine."

"Have you taken something for the pain?"

"Uh, no," he smiled self consciously, making Boris smile along with him. "I really just haven't had the time."

"Well, why don't you make the time now? Or are you in a hurry?"

Hank looked out the window towards the cottage. "I am in a bit of a hurry, yeah. I don't trust my brother alone with my father."

"I see. Well, if you need anything, let Dieter know and he will get it done."

As though that were a cue, Dieter opened the door and waited for Hank to exit. Still not used to being favored by a person with a manservant, Hank remained where he was, stunned and trying to process. After a bit, he just smiled and exited. He didn't have to thank Boris; the businessman already knew that he wanted to say it and he already knew that he'd tell the doctor that he was always welcome.

* * *

When Hank walked into the guesthouse, it was to find his father pretending to be asleep and Evan upstairs. For a second he contemplated waking his father up, whether or not he was awake or asleep, and get him to tell Hank what he was doing there, but he chose to let it go. It didn't matter anyways; as long as Eddie R. didn't hang around or go near Boris or one of Hank's patients, he couldn't care less why the older Lawson was here.

Giving a great yawn, Hank stumbled up the stairs to his room, falling into bed with graceless – half asleep before he hit he bed.

"Ow," he grumbled when his injured wrist barked at him for not being more careful with it. With great effort he rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling while letting his mind wander. Annoyingly his first thoughts were about his father and his return. Since Hank didn't want to spend another second thinking about his father, he went on to his next subject – Boris.

The man was an enigma. His persona of 'strict businessman' was often softened when he was around Hank. Somehow, the doctor had a knack for drawing a softer side out of the nobleman – a knack that no one else apparently had. Never since he had met Boris did Hank think that the man would outright ask him how he was feeling? Okay, so he hadn't used those words, but he might as well have. The truly odd part was that – for a minute – Hank had almost told Boris the truth. But then his sense of self returned and he lied.

Hank shifted a bit on the bed to get more comfortable. Weariness was beginning to take its hold on him and soon he felt his eyes begin to close of their own accord. Soon sleep overcame him and Hank drifted off into a land where Evan remained in front of a door, waiting for a man who would never come.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

"Hank!"

Hank rolled over in bed, giving a groan of annoyance when he heard his brother's voice. Since his phone hadn't gone off, he simply didn't answer and waited to see if Evan would think he was still asleep.

"Hank, get up!" Evan called, his voice coming closer with every word. Hank's bedroom door opened and Evan popped his head through the crack, "Hey, come on, Dieter's downstairs with a message for you."

Hank was about to ask if the butler could just give the message to Evan, but the answer was already apparent since Evan was currently trying to physically drag him out of bed. His little brother, though he was actually taller than Hank now, grabbed hold of his right arm and began to pull, stopping only when he received a yelp from Hank.

It had been four weeks since Hank's encounter with Ivan and the day he'd slugged his father and though the wrist had healed nicely, it wasn't up to one hundred percent yet and so harsh tugs on it were still quite painful. Either Evan had forgotten that or he'd counted on that and was using that to get Hank out of bed.

"Dude, what's with you? You're normally up before me," Evan queried, waiting and making sure Hank was actually going to get up.

"I was out late last night with a patient-"

"Mrs. Mornahan?"

"Yep, and I've only been asleep for two hours."

Showing no pity for Hank's current predicament, Evan walked out into the hall and physically shoved his brother in front of him and towards the stairs.

"Isn't she the one that has asthma and refuses to go to the hospital?"

"Yeah, she also refuses to use the inhaler I gave her so when she started having trouble breathing at one a.m., she called me."

Dieter, Boris' ever patient and loyal butler stood in the patio doorway, neither coming to stand fully inside nor remaining fully outside. It was his habit to make sure that he never fully came into the guesthouse, especially while waiting for a simple answer so that he could return to his duties.

"Yes Dieter," Hank greeted, putting on as warm a smile as he could manage at seven o'clock in the morning. "What can I do for you?"

Instead of talking, the butler handed a plain card to Hank and waited for him to read it and then give his answer. On the card was Boris' handwriting, requesting that Hank join him later on in the evening for a meeting with Ivan. Since Hank had totally forgotten that that meeting had been on the tentative books, he simply stared at the invitation for a minute. He let indecision and apprehension wash through him like they were his own blood and then he let them recede like the waves they truly were.

"Tell Boris, I'll be there and thank you for bringing this over," Hank said, handing the note back to the Dieter. The butler nodded and then left without a word.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" Evan asked. Curiosity shone brightly in his eyes as he continued to simply stare at Hank, waiting for his answer.

"It's nothing," Hank dismissed, moving to go back to bed. "Boris just wanted a meeting."

Unconvinced that that was all to the story, Evan continued to stare at Hank but when the doctor didn't offer anything else, he sighed. "Okay, fine. You don't want to tell me, have it your way, but you can't go back to bed."

"Ugh, why not?"

"Because you have a very full schedule today and Divya can't handle them all."

"Well she can handle the morning ones while I get some more sleep," Hank waved off, hating that he was depending on Divya so much.

"Actually, she can't." Hank spun around to see his brother looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"You didn't," Hank said, knowing that his brother had. "Evan, I told you not to double book us unless it was an emergency."

"And, according to the patient it was."

"Oh really?" Hank challenged, folding his arms over his chest. "And what was such an emergency that you felt it okay to double book us?"

Evan stared at his brother, obviously determined to give nothing away but when he met Hank's unyielding glare, he sighed. "Mrs. Newburg wants a check-up for some new guy she met. Apparently the guy doesn't have any insurance of his own and she wants to make sure he's healthy or something."

Hank brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose and squeezed, praying for patience while trying to lower his heart rate at the same time. When he felt that he had enough control over his temper he looked back up at his brother and sighed in defeat. "And there's no way we can move her appointment until later?"

"No, apparently she's taking this guy out on her yacht or something right after and she doesn't want to wait."

"Fine, but you're driving so I can sleep on the way."

And with that Hank went upstairs to get ready for the day.

**RPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRP**

"Dad?" Hank's mouth fell open as he stared at his father, lounging lazily on one of Mrs. Newburg's lawn chairs.

"Boys!" Eddie R greeted cheerfully, getting up and giving them each a hug.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Evan asked and then asked, "Are you Mrs. Newburg's Beau?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," Eddie replied sounding both proud and a little insulted at his sons' shock.

"You're who I'm supposed to examine to make sure you're fit to go out on the boat?"

Hank couldn't wrap his mind around the idea; the whole thing seemed like a cosmic joke. Emotions swirled through him, angry and bubbling to the surface. As a doctor he couldn't very well say no, but oh how he wanted to. He may have been a bit harsher than he'd needed to during the examination but he somehow couldn't bring himself to care all that much. Hank hadn't seen Eddie since the night he'd punched the man and until today he'd simply assumed that Eddie had simply chosen to leave. It was clear that instead of leaving, however, Eddie had been wooing Hampton's most eligible bachelorettes and using them for their money.

"I still can't believe that you two are together," Evan replied with a huge smile on his face. "Why didn't you tell me when he had lunch?"

"Wait, you knew he hadn't left town?" Hank butted in, unable to stop himself. Betrayal stabbed him, sharp and painfully though he refused to admit it in front of his dad.

"Of course I knew," Evan replied as though the idea of him not knowing was ridiculous.

"Yeah, Evan helped set me up in a hotel and everything."

Hank unwrapped the blood pressure cuff and looked at his brother, "Oh he did, did he?"

At this, Evan avoided his glance and refocused on his father, who was now holding on to Mrs. Newburg's hand.

"Now, don't be angry, Hank," she scolded, giving Eddie a loving glance. "Eddie has told me everything and while I can understand you being upset, you do not need to worry about anything." Hank glared down at his father, waiting to hear exactly what 'everything' meant. "Other than the occasional lunch and outing, Eddie pays for everything." She looped her arm with his and leaned in towards him. "He's a true gentleman."

"Yeah, okay, well everything's fine," Hank informed, packing his supplies into his rundown medical bag, "and you two are free to go on your cruise whenever you want."

With that, he walked away, feeling anger and pain surge through him so hot it burned.

"Hank," Evan called, jogging after his brother. "Hank!"

Hank spun on his heel and glared at his brother. He held up a hand and simply said, "Don't." He didn't want to hear his brother's reasons. He didn't want to hear his brother's excuses. And most of all, he didn't want to fight. There'd been too much of that going on between them once they'd grown up and Hank didn't want to go back to that relationship again.

Evan, knowing when to listen to his brother, clamped his mouth shut and climbed into the car. He pulled his seatbelt as tight as it would go and then proceeded to hold on to whatever made him feel safer. He knew that Hank was pissed at him and he knew, from experience, that Hank's driving got a bit dodgy when he drove when he was pissed. But most of all – Evan wanted something to hold on to in case Hank decided to try and physically throw him out of the car.

**RPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRP**

The rest of the day passed in silence between the two brothers. Mostly because once they'd finished with their appointment at Mrs. Newburg's, Hank had kicked Evan out of the car at the drive of Shadow Pond and proceeded to fly towards his next appointment.

With Divya by his side, Hank felt his temper cool enough to where he could fake that he was fine in front of his patients. He handled them all as he normally would, with care, patience, and sincerity. Only once they had finished with their last patient, did Hank feel the same feelings as before and this time they almost overpowered him. He walked out to the car and placed his hands on the door where the window usually was. He slammed his hands down as his frustration and anger boiled over and then proceeded to do it again when the first time hadn't really helped. He jumped when he felt Divya put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" she asked, throwing him a look of concern that made him all the angrier.

Hank took a deep breath to regain control of his emotions and then smiled, "Yeah, fine."

The words were clipped and wholly untrue and Divya could obviously tell as she raised an eyebrow challengingly at him. "I wasn't aware people cried when they were fine."

Almost dumbly, Hank lifted a hand to his cheeks and found them wet. The stream of tears had come without his knowledge or permission and despite him not wanting them around, they continued to steadily fall.

Divya put her hands on his arms and gave them a gentle squeeze. "Talk to me," she asked and the almost pleading note in her voice left him with no other option but to do as she asked. Together, they climbed into Divya's SUV where they could gain some semblance of privacy and there in the growing dark and peaceful serenity of the Mercedes, he told Divya everything.

**RPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRP**

Divya was torn. On one hand, she could very much understand Evan's behavior in bringing his father to town and wanting to be closer to him, but on the other, she was hurt and angry on Hank's behalf – not just at their father but at Evan as well. Knowing that neither man was going to work it through with the other, she decided it was time for her to step in and what better time to talk to Evan than when Hank is meeting with Boris and wouldn't be around?

**RPRPRPRPRPRPRPRPRP**

"Hank, come in," Boris bid, waving the younger doctor in. He'd received a call from the man, letting him know that he'd be late and hadn't minded keeping Ivan waiting. Boris waited for Dieter to close the door before he began the meeting.

"Now then gentlemen. We are here to accomplish two simple things. One, so that Ivan can apologize for how he treated you, Hank, and two, so that Ivan can sign a contract stating that he will never treat a guest of mine like that again."

"What's in this contract?" Hank asked looking uneasy.

Boris smiled. Clearly the doctor knew him well enough to know that there was more to the contract than simply being fired. "Why don't you let Ivan and I worry about that Hank?" he suggested as mildly as he could. "For now, let us start with the apology."

Despite his reservations, Boris had high hopes of considering the matter resolved after tonight. But one look at Ivan's narrowed eyes and defiant stance, however, told him that no such resolution was to come.

"No," Ivan denied in a thick Russian accent. "I would rather die than let this American pig touch me."

"Well I'm sorry, but I can't promise to let that happen," Hank answered, his shoulders squared and ready for battle.

This, however, was a battle that Boris knew Hank wouldn't win. Hank, for all intents and purposes, was a diplomat; he tried to resolve thing s with words and strong hints. Ivan, on the other hand, was more of a physical doer; he preferred to show his preferences in a physical way and he liked to do it as painfully as possible for the other person.

"Well then, I say that we have a problem, pig."

"Ivan," Boris pitched in warning. He stepped in between the two should things get ugly, preferring to be the one injured than Hank, and tried to coerce the Mossad trained man into agreement. He stared coldly at the taller, burlier man, his gaze unwavering and showing no fear as he spoke. "If you do not do this, it will mean your termination from my employ."

"That is fine with me," Ivan answered, refusing to budge. "Like I say, I would rather die than let him touch me again."

"Hold on, I'm sorry, what exactly does leaving your employ entail?"

Boris turned around and gave the doctor a gentle smile. "I think it best if certain details were left out of the conversation," he replied evasively.

Again, Hank's shoulders shifted and his posture straightened so much that it looked like it should hurt. "Well, I'm sorry, but that's not an option."

Ivan scoffed. "Look at little American pig trying to act tough."

"Yeah, and if it wasn't for this American pig, you wouldn't be alive," Hank countered, with just enough venom in his voice to make it a challenge.

Ivan charged; a vicious smile on his face but rage in his eyes. He knocked Boris out of the way, flinging the German nobleman sidelong into the end of one of the couches and leaving him breathless from the impact. For a moment his brain grew fuzzy and he forgot what it was he was supposed to be doing but then he heard Hank let out a yelp as his head hit the wall behind him and Boris was on his feet again. He was in time to see Hank get a rather decent punch on Ivan's jaw, which made him smile briefly to see. Then Ivan grabbed the doctor's hand and wrenched it back before throwing him against the wall again, sending the man into unconsciousness.

It didn't take long for Boris' security team to burst through the doors, but it wasn't enough to save Hank from a couple more blows while he was down. Upon hearing them out the doors, Ivan proceeded to hurriedly kick Hank in the stomach and then slammed the toe of his boot into Hank's unguarded knee. The doctor didn't make a sound, even when a discernable crack rent through the air and Boris felt his worry for Hank's health rise significantly.

Hunching slightly to avoid pressuring his tender side, Boris went over to where Hank lay and knelt beside him. The man's face was a mess and a permanent expression of pain had settled itself onto his features, but he was breathing, even if it was a bit unsteadily.

Soft footfalls echoed through the now empty room and Boris looked up to find Dieter standing close by, awaiting instruction.

"Have Ivan locked in the cell in the basement until he can be dealt with and then call Hank's assistant Divya; she was on the premises earlier and might still be; she can help."

Without saying a word, Dieter walked out of the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Boris alone to convince not only himself but Hank's brother and assistant that this was in no way his fault.

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**I am SO SO SO SO sorry that this has taken me so long to get out! I hope you all enjoy the new chapter :) **

* * *

Divya found Evan sitting on the couch in the guesthouse, staring blankly at the darkened TV. With his arms over his chest and his legs stretched out onto the coffee table while he slouched on the couch itself, it looked like he was in a surly mood. Walking in and sitting down in one of the couches adjacent to the one he sat in, Divya did her best to remain neutral as she stared at him.

"What's going on between you and Hank?"

Evan jumped slightly at the sound of her voice, his surprise showing just how deep in thought he actually had been. It was weird for Divya to think of Evan as deep in thought; usually he couldn't sit still long enough to think about anything more than the next meal or their next potential client.

"Geez!" Evan cursed. "Divya, announce yourself next time! Cough or something. You could give a man a heart attack."

"Well, then you're in the right place if you have one."

Evan thought about that for a moment and then said, "I thought that was hospitals."

"Stop avoiding the subject," Divya said evenly. "What's going on between you and Hank?"

"Nothing," Evan discounted a little too easily. He looked away from her to stare down at his chest. "It'll blow over."

"Somehow I doubt that," Divya countered dryly. "I've never seen Hank so upset."

"You mean angry," Evan scoffed.

"No, I mean upset." She stared at him as intently as she could, trying to show him exactly how serious, how worried she truly was. "He lost it after our last appointment. When I came out he was hitting his car, repeatedly and," she paused for a moment to debate whether or not to say this next part because she knew it would mortify Hank. But she knew that Evan needed to understand the gravity of the situation and so, with a heavy sigh, she continued," he was crying, Evan. No matter how angry I've seen Hank, I've never seen him cry. He didn't seem to know that he was doing it either."

She paused once again to take a breath. Glancing over at Evan, she knew that she now had his full attention. No longer was he slouching and pouting. He was mostly upright, leaning on his knees with his elbows and staring rather intently at her. Concern shown in his eyes, reflecting off the guilt he'd been trying to hide only making it shine that much brighter.

"After a few minutes I was able to get him to talk to me," she continued, barely knowing what she was going to say afterwards.

Just as she opened her mouth to say more, her phone rang. Normally she wouldn't have answered it, but the caller ID was flashing as Shadow Pond so she figured she had to.

"Hello."

"_Ms. Katdare, your presence is requested at the main house." _

Divya frowned at the voice; she didn't recognize it and that worried her.

"Is something wrong?" Her eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, letting Evan know that something was amiss. His expression mirrored hers, but instead of concern, his was out of curiosity.

"What is it?" he mouthed, having learned that it was best not to disturb her while on the phone.

"_There has been an incident and we require your medical help." _

A feeling of dread dropped into the pit of her stomach. Normally Shadow Pond requesting help wasn't unusual but since Hank was already there, he should have been able to handle whatever situation that had arisen and if Hank had needed assistance with a situation, he would have called her himself. So, giving that someone from Shadow Pond was calling her instead, her rational mind concluded that Hank was the one in need of care.

"Of course, I'll be there as soon as I can."

She hung up and immediately got bombarded with questions from Evan. "What is it? What's wrong? Who are we coming to see?" He paused to take in her expression and change questions, "Is Hank okay? Is he the one that needs help?"

"I don't know, Evan, they didn't tell me anything more than I'm needed at the main house," Divya replied, making sure to keep her tone even and calm.

"Well then, let's not keep them waiting."

**RPRPRPRPRPRPRPRP**

The sound of Divya's heels clicking on the cobblestone echoed through the night air. She knew immediately that something was off because the moment the guards heard her approach, they surrounded her and Evan and silently escorted them up to Boris' office. No one said a word to her or Evan, despite Evan's constant chatter and inquiries.

The scene that greeted Divya made her heart stop. Hank lay on the floor, half on his side, half leaning against the wall. She could tell that he was breathing, but the fact that he was unconscious made her a little worried. Beside him, sitting on a sofa, was Boris, slightly guarding his side. His full attention was on Hank, though, and so Divya chose to focus on her friend first.

"Hank?" Evan's voice queried beside her and she felt a brief gust of air as he rushed to his brother's side.

Divya didn't waste any time in following, quickly trying to evaluate Hank's condition as she went. At first glance he didn't appear to be too badly injured but she made sure to be as thorough as possible as she examined him.

She'd just discovered the lump on the back of Hank's head when bleary hazel eyes opened and stared at her. He groaned as the light assaulted his vision and tried to turn away from it, but he stopped with a hiss and a pained expression.

"Hank?" she called to him, noticing that he was waking up. She put her hands on his left bicep to stop him from moving and possibly hurting himself more. "Hank, can you hear me?"

"Divya?" he answered, sounding barely alert and turning his head towards the sound of her voice. Ever since he'd discovered that it was bright in the room, he'd kept his eyes firmly closed and so was using his hearing instead of his vision to find her.

"How are you feeling?" She ignored the incredulous look that Evan gave her and remained focused purely on her patient. She knew that it was a ridiculous question to ask, but it was the easiest way to get a brief diagnosis.

"Isn't it kind of obvious how he's feeling?" Evan asked, unable to remain silent any longer. "He looks like he got into a fight with a Sumo wrestler and lost."

"Wouldn't I be flatter if I did that?" Hank joked, his words slurring the slightest bit as he spoke.

"You're overreacting, Evan," Divya said, her voice practically willing the younger Lawson to remain calm. She turned her attention to the elder and filled his line of sight. "Hank, I'm going to lay you flat so I can examine you better."

She barely waited for Hank to acknowledge what she'd said before she gently began shuffling him so that he was leaning more against the wall behind him. Having apparently decided to be helpful, Evan reached out and grabbed his brother's right leg while Divya grabbed his right arm and they both eased him flat on the floor.

Hank gave a small grimace when Evan moved his leg and Divya tucked it away for later use while she focused on the lump on the back of his head. It was relatively small in size, but it was obviously painful to the touch and so she moved on, feeling down his neck and shoulders then arms and wrists and hands. She noticed the bruising on his knuckles and wrist from what was no doubt a punch but since it wasn't too extensive, she kept going.

As gingerly as she could, she pushed down on his stomach, feeling for any signs of internal bleeding as well as broken ribs. Though she felt none, she knew that there would be quite the bruise as Hank had hissed the moment she'd applied the slightest bit of pressure to his stomach. Either his attacker had known how to avoid Hank's ribs while aiming a kick or, more likely, he was just in too much of a hurry to care and therefore aimed wherever he could reach.

From there, she went down to his legs, making sure to keep her touch feather light as she examined Hank's right knee. It was swollen, but not overly so and so she didn't spend too much time with it as she wanted to finish the examination and then get Hank to a more comfortable place, like the guest house.

For the most part, Hank remained quiet while she worked. It wasn't until she'd sat back on her heels, debating what to do next, that the doctor decided it was time to open his eyes again. He winced when light once again assaulted his vision but he stubbornly kept his eyes open and began to look around the room. Divya watched as he looked at the ceiling and then quickly focused on Boris, his expression going from confused alertness to concern.

"Boris, are you alright?" he asked, his voice betraying the amount of pain he himself was in.

"Yes, Hank, I am fine," Boris assured, though Divya noted that his hand never left his side. "How is he, miss Katdare?"

"As far as I can tell, he'll be fine," she answered, looking between Boris' guards to see if they could possibly help her get Hank to a bed. "There's no internal bleeding, no broken bones, and thankfully he has a hard head so he only sustained a minor bump from – I'm assuming – hitting the wall."

Boris and Evan, both, breathed sighs of relief, though Boris' was barely noticeable, and she looked down to smile at her patient. He returned the smile, though pain filled every feature on his face. Beside his hip, his right hand flexed off and on, heightening the bruising on his knuckles each time. Instinctively, Divya reached out and grabbed his hand to stop him from possibly causing himself more pain.

"But," she added after Hank gave her a grateful smile, his hand clenched around hers. "He's going to be very sore for a while. Boris, do you have a spare room where we can let him recover?"

"No," Hank immediately vetoed. His grip on her hand became even tighter as he struggled to sit upright. Divya reached out to stop him but as it turned out, she needn't have worried as the pain had done that for her. With a frozen grimace and a silent cry on his lips, Hank fell back to the floor. Divya barely had time to put her hand under his head so as to protect the lump on the back of his head before it hit the floor. Even still, Hank groaned and Divya felt Evan shift beside her in worry.

"Hank, we're not going to be able to get you back to the guesthouse," Divya reasoned, knowing that it wasn't the whole truth. They _could _get him back to the guesthouse, but it would involve causing him a lot of pain while doing it as Boris' guards would be carrying him and that wasn't something she was willing to do.

"Of course," Boris answered as though Hank hadn't spoken a word. He signaled to two of the guards that stood in the door way and they instantly came forward and knelt down to where Hank was.

Divya moved out of the way, pulling Evan with her as she watched them gently lift Hank off the floor. The doctor groaned as they shifted his stomach and grabbed a tight hold of his knee and Divya felt her heart squeeze painfully at the sound.

She and Evan both followed close on their heels as the guards carried Hank to a spare bedroom off the staircase and placed him in the bed.

"Evan, run down to the guesthouse, grab two instant ice packs, an ace bandage, and a two milligram dose of demerol."

For once not putting up a fight, Evan nodded and ran off to do what he was told.

"Divya, that's not necessary," Hank lectured, giving another grimace.

"Maybe not," Divya granted. "But I'd like to get you some pain relief sooner rather than later."

She helped to get him situated in bed, moving pillows so that he wasn't so encumbered by them and placing one under his more-swollen knee. Against her better judgment, she also helped him to sit partially upright, allowing him to squeeze the blood out of her hand until the pain had calmed afterwards.

Evan came back in record time, breathing heavily, but carting a bag with HankMed's logo on it. The items had been haphazardly thrown inside but it appeared that he'd grabbed all that she'd asked and then some. Among everything was a pair of scissors which she'd completely forgotten to ask for, gauze – though why she'd need that she had no idea – and about ten more ice packs than she'd asked for.

Grabbing one of the ice packs, she activated it and placed it inside a pillow, using the pillow case to act as a barrier between Hank's head and the ice pack itself. He breathed a sigh of relief once she'd finished and she smiled down at him before starting to pull his shirt up so that she could take a look at his stomach.

The bruise was small, comparatively. It was no bigger than the size of her fist but even still, it looked painful. Though it couldn't have happened more than an hour ago, the bruise was deep and angry looking. After once again palpitating it to make sure there wasn't more damage done, she replaced his shirt and laid an ice pack on top, allowing the cold to numb the pain away.

"So, um, what happened?" Evan asked as the silence stretched on far too long for his liking. He stood before Boris – who had followed them all into the room and had sat down in one of the armchairs near the bed – with his arms over his chest, looking angry now that his concern had been tempered by Divya's ministrations.

The German nobleman sighed, bowing his head to hide a wince as he did so. Divya, who had begun to attend to Hank's knee, stopped briefly to snap at Evan.

"Evan, now is not the time," she said, hoping she hid just how much she wanted to know what had happened as well. As it was, however, she could also tell that Boris was in pain and that by angering him, which Evan tended to do, would do him no favors.

"I think now is the perfect time to discover what the hell happened to my brother," Evan snapped back, never taking his eyes off Boris.

"Evan!"

This time it was Hank that had snapped. The group as a whole turned to look over at, completely unaware that he had been awake enough to know what was going on in the first place. It was true that he had fallen asleep, soon after Divya had applied the ice pack to his head, but it shouldn't have surprised her that he'd woken up long enough to snap at his brother for badgering their landlord and Hank's friend.

Hank struggled to sit up more, moving as though his entire body hurt rather than just his head, stomach, and knee. He paused halfway through his attempt to close his eyes, shifting to put most of his weight on his left hand, and Divya moved to help him continue when he was ready. She didn't doubt that, despite the ice pack, he had a monster of a headache and doubted that changing position as quickly as he was trying to do was doing it any favors.

"Thanks," Hank said once he'd been settled. He looked paler than usual and she could tell that he was still in pain but Divya didn't push him. She smiled in return, wanting to warn him that he wasn't going be in that position long and chose to get him some pain relief in the form of Demerol instead.

Once she'd moved away from his side, he'd started to lecture his brother. "Evan, while I don't deny that you have a right to know what happened, you can wait until _I'm _able to tell you, not Boris."

"It's alright, Hank," Boris defended, focusing back on Evan. "I understand your brother's reasons. You were hurt and it's only natural for him to be curious as to how and why."

"Curious?" Evan answered, sounding annoyed that that was the way Boris had chosen to describe what he was feeling. He paused in the beginning of his tirade to look over at his brother who had gasped when Divya had begun to wrap his injured knee.

Divya caught his eye, silently begging him not to make a scene right now. He tilted his head to the side as though asking why not and she pointedly looked up at Hank who had his head laid back with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Despite the pain shot, he was still exhibiting signs of it and that worried her.

At the sign of his brother still in pain, however, Evan deflated.

"Alright, whatever," Evan mumbled, pulling out his phone. "Excuse me while I make some calls."

"Who are you calling?" Hank asked, lowering his hand so that he can look at his brother. When Evan ignored him and walked out, Hank just sighed.

"How are you feeling?" Divya asked, concerned. She placed an ice pack over his now bandaged knee and then cleaned up the trash from the supplies that she'd used while she waited for an answer.

"Better, thanks," he said, giving her a smile that brightened his eyes.

She grabbed his hand to examine the bruised knuckles. They were a little swollen but that wasn't what had her frowning. It appeared that whatever had happened had once again done something to his wrist. It was purpling in some places and swelling. After applying a bandage to his wrist, she grabbed the ice pack from his stomach and placing it over it to help with the swelling. "How's the pain?"

"Better," he responded, "the shot helped."

"And so what you just did was for Evan's benefit?" she asked, unconvinced.

"Pretty much," Hank shamelessly admitted. "Sometimes it's easier to get him to focus on someone else's needs than try to explain logic to him."

"I see," Divya said, silently admitting that his plan had worked. "Well, now that my first patient has been seen to, it's time for me to attend to my second patient."

She approached Boris but stopped when his two guards stepped forward as well. Boris held out a hand to stop them, silently telling them to back down while letting her continue forward.

"This is not necessary," he said as he submitted to her examination.

"Maybe, maybe not," she returned, watching as he winced when she pressed over his seventh rib. "I'm sure that dealing with a bruised rib is nothing for you but I'm going to treat you for it anyways."

"Bruised rib?" Hank asked, his brows furrowing in concern.

"Yes, whatever hit Boris, hit him rather hard."

"How bad is the bruise?" Hank asked, obviously itching to be the one examining his friend. He moved as though he were going to try and take a look for himself but soon stopped when his body reminded him to remain where he was for the time being.

Divya rolled her eyes at her friend and then spoke to her patient, "You'll be fine in a couple weeks as long as you rest and don't try anything too strenuous."

"I'm sure I will be fine," Boris assured her, looking down at her hands as she double checked her examination.

She looked over at Hank, about to give him a lecture on taking the same advice of rest and no straining, but she stopped, the words dying on her lips as she took in the expression on her friend's face. Although pain seemed to fill every line on his face, there was a tenderness in his eyes that she doubted he even knew he was expressing.

Hank Lawson cared about all of his patients. It was a statement of fact and something that anyone who had ever tried to stop the doctor from caring for his patient learned very quickly. But there seemed to be something special about Boris that had drawn the doctor to him from their first meeting. No one knew what it was as they only got to meet one version of Boris – the business side. But Hank, Divya knew, also brought out a different side of the German nobleman – the human side. Before tonight, she hadn't seen it before but she'd heard about it from Hank, though he hadn't known that was how he was explaining things.

Boris cared about Hank. The degree of such care was still unknown to everyone, including Boris himself, Divya realized, but that didn't take anything away from it in the least. What she hadn't known was just how much Hank cared about Boris in return. It wasn't anything romantic as far as she could tell. No, it was more like a brother or best friend.

"Here," she said, handing Boris another ice pack since she had plenty to go round. "Keep that on your side for fifteen to twenty minutes, two times an hour. It'll help with the pain."

"And try to keep pressure off your side," Hank added, seeing that Boris was planning on getting up to leave. "If you're going to do a lot of sitting, put a pillow behind your back to help ease the strain."

Boris remained quiet while he'd been given instructions. He held the pack to his side, making it look like the arm was merely supporting his stomach and side as it reached across but Divya knew that he had the ice pack against the sore rib. His eyes grew soft with concern as he looked down at his private physician and said, "Feel better, Hank. I shall check on you in the morning."

"That's not really necessary, Boris, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"That may be, but as Ms. Katdare has said, you will not be moving to the guesthouse for a couple of days at the least and so until then you will be my guest. And as the host, I like to check in with my guests to make sure that they are being cared for."

With that, he left, not allowing Hank to argue any further.

Hank sighed, leaning his head back against the pillows.

"Well, I should allow you to rest," Divya said, not having realized that it was now almost ten at night. "Do you need anything before I go?"

"Yeah, could you take Evan with you? Otherwise I doubt anyone will be getting any sleep tonight."

"Sure, anything else?"

"No, thanks Divya."

"Of course," Divya granted, wondering why he was thanking her for doing her job. Granted she could have been much more clinical about what she was doing but not only was that not Divya but it was also Hank that had been injured and not just anybody. "I'll come and check on you in the morning. Until then, get some rest."

She met Evan at the door, his hand poised to grab a hold of the door handle while his eyes remained focused on the phone in his hands.

"Where are you going?" he asked, stepping aside so he could move out of the way.

"We," she said, puncturing the word by grabbing his arm, "are going to go back to the guesthouse."

"What about Hank?" Evan asked, trying to tug his arm out of her grip.

"He'll be fine for the night," Divya assured. "What he really needs right now is rest. Something he can't do if you're sitting there fussing over him."

"I wouldn't be fussing over him," Evan argued. "Dad would be."

"Evan, you called your father?" she asked, dumbfounded and staring at him incredulously.

"Yeah, of course. Dad would want to know that Henry's been hurt," Evan reasoned.

"Yes but _Hank _probably doesn't want your dad to know, does he?"

"Hank doesn't know what he wants," Evan argued, though he didn't sound as confident as he may have insinuated.

The pair exited Shadow Pond and headed off in the direction of the guesthouse.

"Be that as it may," Divya said, her voice becoming a warning. "Unless Hank specifically asks for your dad, I don't want him around. The last thing Hank needs is to be stressed out by your father's appearance."

Evan made a non-committal sound that had Divya concerned that he wasn't paying attention to her.

"I mean it, Evan," she tried again. This time Evan waved her off.

"Yeah, yeah, I've got it." He entered the guesthouse and went upstairs. "The spare bedroom's yours if you want it. Goodnight."

Divya watched as he disappeared into his own room and then sighed in frustration. She had a feeling that the next few days were going to a battle between what Hank needs, what Hank wants and what Evan wants and somehow she thought that she'd be in the middle of it.

With no other any energy, Divya collapsed onto the couch. She was going to need all the rest that she could get.

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey everyone! Surprise! I got the next chapter out and you didn't have to wait months! :D I really appreciate those of you that have stuck with this story despite its long wait time. I hope the story is living up to your expectations. Especially since I have no clue where this is heading, lol.. I'm making it up as I go :D **

**Please forgive all the mistakes. I do not have a beta and I wrote this in between my RL and (amazingly) all today. **

**Enjoy! **

**M**

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Hank woke to a soft bed. He could instantly tell by how it cushioned every part of him that he wasn't in the guesthouse. His bed felt slightly different. Less like it was made out of clouds and more like it was made out of foam. At first he was confused as to where he was but after a few minutes of stretching his mind, he remembered everything that had happened the previous night with Ivan and Boris. He could briefly remember something about Divya and Evan and Boris being injured but that part of the night was fuzzy and it hurt Hank's head to think about.

Shifting a little, Hank took stock of himself. The headache alone told him that he had a concussion. Albeit, not a bad one but one nonetheless. He raised his hand to feel the back of his head the source of the pain seemed to be located but stopped with a hiss when his right wrist sent a spike of pain through his arm.

_Okay, _Hank reasoned, _I guess I reinjured it.. Again. _

Using his other arm, Hank gingerly touched the knot on the back of his head and then moved on to his stomach. Thankfully, breathing wasn't that hard which meant that Ivan hadn't landed any good blows to his ribs but it did hurt if he inhaled too deeply meaning that the behemoth of a man must have kicked him rather hard in his stomach, near his diaphragm. Hank vaguely remembered something to that effect but he'd been too dazed from the blow to the back of the head to truly register much.

Moving on, Hank let his arms lay by his sides, using his legs this time to make sure that they were alright. He wasn't able to stifle a cry when he moved his right leg. Pain radiated from his knee, sending sonar pulses of it throughout his leg.

"Hank? Are you alright?" Boris' voice came through the closed oak door. Even with the heavy door deadening most sound, Boris sounded concerned and within seconds the man himself entered the room. His arm was wrapped around his stomach, with his hand cradling his side and pain dulled the beautiful color in his hazel eyes but the creases in his forehead despite his well-controlled expression had no problem showing Hank that he was worried.

"Yeah, Boris, I'm fine," Hank lied, offering up as bright a smile as he could. "I moved wrong, that's all."

Boris nodded to show that he had heard. "Perhaps I should call Ms. Katdare back," he suggested. "It appears that you could use some more pain relief."

Hank had begun shaking his head before Boris had even finished speaking. "That's not necessary Boris. I'm fine."

"Judging from the cry that I heard from downstairs, I'm going to disagree with that," Divya countered, stepping into the room and joining the pair.

_Great! _Hank silently grumbled. Hank had never been one to appreciate all the attention on himself – that was Evan's shtick – so having two people solely focused on how _he's _doing was just _not _something Hank was enjoying. As far as Hank was concerned he was fine. Yes, he hurt. Yes, he has a hard time moving right now. But he was fine nonetheless.

"I'm guessing that you're fully feeling your injuries," Divya summarized as she came over to examine him.

A penlight first thing in the morning was not something that anybody liked to wake up to. And while Hank had had a good ten, maybe twenty, minutes in between waking up and being examined, it was still unpleasant. Pain bore into his skull like a jackhammer breaking concrete as the light shone into his eyes, making him flinch and close them as quickly as he could.

Divya said nothing as she put the light away, gently felt the lump on his head, and then moved down to his hand.

Hank tried to stifle any sign of pain as she went through her examine but it was hard. His head ached and therefore his patience was wearing thin. When she'd rotated his w rist, Hank hadn't been able to stop the way his body had tensed in reaction to the pain the movement had caused. Nor had he been able to hide a wince when he'd inhaled sharply and his bruised stomach had protested against it.

Still saying nothing, Divya moved to check his stomach and then down to his knee when she was apparently satisfied with his torso. She was as gentle as she could have been as she unwrapped the bandage but even the slightest touch near his patella caused sharp, intense pain to sweep through the joint. Divya frowned as she took note of this but she didn't comment as she proceeded to inspect the injury.

Hank's eyes followed hers and he focused on the swollen, bruised mess that was supposed to be his knee. A wide array of colors had begun to show, most never really ending at a certain point but all surrounding his kneecap. The swelling was severe enough to hint at what Hank's medical side had already thought of the moment he'd registered sensitivity to touch. However, knowing that Divya had no doubt already come to the same conclusion, he kept quiet, doing his best to control his breathing – and the pain – instead.

"Here," she said, digging through her bag and pulling out a syringe. She swiftly inserted it into the crook of Hank's right arm, her thumb gently rubbing small circles over the muscles of his forearm as she worked. "This will help the pain for the time being. I want to get a closer look at your hand, wrist and knee and this will help make those procedures easier on you as well."

She left without saying another word, giving Boris an acknowledging nod as she went.

Hank looked over at Boris, frowning when he took in the German's hunched posture.

"You could have had Divya give you something for the pain as well," he commented, making his tone sound like the lecture he'd been wanting to give ever since the man had walked in in pain.

Boris smiled, obviously appreciating Hank's concern. "I'll be alright," he assured, settling into the armchair enough to make himself more comfortable.

"Now who's the liar?" Hank returned, not believing anything Boris was saying for a minute.

"Worry about yourself, Hank," Boris answered not unkindly.

Though the words were meant to sound as a lecture of their own, somehow Hank could tell that that was not how they were supposed to be taken. They almost sounded to Hank as though Boris was merely saying, 'I'm more worried about you at the moment.'

The two men were quiet after that. Boris' gaze was focused on Hank and Hank alone but Hank barely noticed the attention as he tried to sift through the past couple of years with Boris to see if there had been anything in their interactions that he may have missed. The way in which the other man had been treating him lately had begun to make Hank believe that he felt something more than friendship for Hank and if that was the case Hank needed to decide how he felt about that.

Boris was an attractive man; Hank had not trouble admitting that to himself. He was regal, conducted himself with composure and poise, and carried himself with the kind of self-assurance that drew people to him rather than put them off. His bone structure was a perfect balance of noticeable but calm. His features weren't too prominent but they were prominent enough to be noticed and appreciated. His accent was beautiful. The way words rolled off his tongue with ease – whether they be in English, German, French, or anything else that Boris spoke – made Hank want to hang around and listen even if he couldn't understand a single word.

And yet, Hank had always fallen for women. Did this mean that he was against taking a man for a partner? Hank wasn't sure. And that was what Hank had to work out before he said anything to Boris.

Divya entered pushing the portable x-ray through the wide door. Either Boris had an elevator – which was something that Hank wouldn't put past the castle – or Divya had made Boris' security help get it up the stairs – which Hank wouldn't put past her. Hank was willing to bet on the elevator as he doubted that even Boris' well-muscled security could get the machine up the stairs. Either way, it was here in his room, ready to expose the weaknesses in his bones.

"Boris, you don't have to stay for this," Hank said, sure that he was keeping the nobleman from an important meeting of one topic or another.

Boris cocked his head to the side, the motion barely noticeable to anyone else other than Hank who had spent so much time studying the man before him for signs of his genetic illness coming forth. Hank could sense that Boris didn't want to leave, but he also couldn't come up with a reason for his presence to remain and so he was trying to come up with one during his silence.

Deciding that having Boris around wasn't at all a bad thing as it would give Divya time to examine him as well, Hank said, "Although, if you don't mind waiting until she's done, Divya could give you something for the pain."

The look Boris gave Hank could only be described as an eye roll. His eyes barely moved upwards, but they had headed that way before they closed completely as he sighed and so that was what Hank had took it to be.

Divya's head snapped up at the mention of her name and she focused on Boris. After giving a rather pronounced eye roll herself, she walked over to the medical bag that she'd brought with her after grabbing the portable x-ray and pulled out another instant ice pack. She activated it and handed it to him.

"Here," she said, her voice even. "You should have done that before you started moving around."

Boris took the ice pack with another sigh and nodded to show that he'd heard her. "How is Hank?"

"'Hank' is right here and I'm fine," Hank answered, a little annoyed that Boris was trying to talk about him like he wasn't there.

"Yes, I can see that you are there, Hank, but while you say that you are fine, I do not believe you and so I am asking Ms. Katdare because she will more than likely tell me the truth," Boris answered, lecturing Hank in return for constantly insisting that he was fine when it was obvious that he wasn't.

"As I said last night, he'll be fine," Divya answered, moving back over to Hank and taking images of his hand and wrist. After looking at the results, she moved the machine down to Hank's knee and repeated the process.

"I was referring to the reason for why x-rays are necessary," Boris clarified, watching her carefulness with Hank like a hawk eyeing prey.

Divya didn't answer right away. She was too preoccupied with the images that had showed up on her tablet. After she'd finished with those, however, she let out a breath, placed the tablet on a nearby side table and answered. "I suspected worse damage done to them than I had first diagnosed and I was right. He has a couple hairline Boxer's Fracture from a punch that he'd thrown, another hairline fracture in his wrist from the same punch and yet another fracture in his patella."

Both physicians turned towards Boris to gage whether he understood what all she'd said and upon seeing that he had, Divya moved on.

"The Boxer's Fracture isn't too severe so we'll just tape the fingers and let them heal on their own. I'm going to put the same brace on your wrist that I'd had before because I at least know that you'll take care of the wrist with it rather than a less encumber-some one." She gave Hank a look that said there'd be a lecture if he messed with said brace before she told him he could and then she continued. "The patellar fracture isn't bad, meaning no surgery will be required to fix it, but it will take a while to heal and it will keep you off your feet for at least the first few weeks."

With that said, she left to go and grab the needed items to help Hank heal – meaning the wrist brace and the knee brace.

"I am sorry that Ivan has caused you so much trouble," Boris apologized once she'd left. Whether the word 'trouble' could be supplemented for pain or damage, Hank couldn't tell but he figured it could.

Either way, Boris' remorse was genuine and he appreciated it.

"It's alright," Hank forgave. He would have liked to say that it wasn't Boris' fault but there was a bit of it to go to Boris. Obviously the older man had known the temper that Ivan had and he also knew what Ivan could do when angered. Merely believing that if you were under Boris' employ that meant that you _would _do everything he asked was naïve and that was something that Boris wasn't.

"Can I ask you something?" Hank asked as a question occurred to him.

"Of course," Boris granted, shifting slightly so that he could give Hank his full attention while still remaining comfortable.

"Why did you insist that Ivan and I meet? I mean, you're a smart guy, Boris. You must have noticed how hostile Ivan was towards Americans. So what made you assume that he would not only tolerate my presence but also apologize?"

Hank winced, hating how selfish those questions sounded. It wasn't that he was mad that he'd been put into the position he was currently in, but he believed that he had a right know Boris' reasoning behind the whole affair.

Boris bowed his head, more than likely hiding his emotions from Hank as much as he could. The action alone told Hank that the older man felt badly for the way he'd handled things but guilt alone wasn't going to appease Hank's curiosity.

"I am truly sorry for that, Hank," Boris began, once again tripping over Hank's name in the way he was used to doing. "I had hoped that he would choose to remain within my employ rather than out of it."

"And what does leaving your employ mean exactly?" Hank asked, remembering that he'd never really gotten much of an answer the night before.

"Suffice it to say that it is a tedious process and it is generally better to remain employed here," Boris replied, remaining vague in his answer.

"Uh-huh," Hank replied, making it sound like everything made sense when it purposely didn't. He opened his mouth to say more but that was when Divya walked back in, oblivious to the fact that she could be interrupting a conversation.

"So," she said as she began to tape Hank's fingers together. Hank watched as she briefly shifted her gaze over to Boris before returning back to his hand and what she was doing. "What happened last night?" At Hank's eye raise – Divya wasn't usually one to pry after Hank had already said that he'd explain later – she added, "Evan has been rambling non-stop to whomever he's been on the phone with about it, not to mention he's been asking me every time I go back down there."

"Yeah, who has Evan been talking to?" Hank asked, his curiosity shifted and piqued. He winced when she secured the brace around his wrist. The tightness would help the swelling that had slightly increased from last night but it had been painful to apply.

"I'm not sure," Divya answered, fastening the straps of the brace and then moving to grab the brace for his knee.

The brace itself was nothing to write home about. It was a long one. Black. And it would merely wrap around his leg, providing support for his knee whenever he started to actually bear weight on it. Until then it was only there to keep the knee immobilized while it healed.

"Alright, this may hurt a bit," she warned as she lifted leg off the pillow and straightened it out. As swiftly as the professional that she was, she applied the brace, ignoring Hank when he let out a growl of pain and then his breath quickened. She placed his leg back on top of the pillows, elevating the leg.

"Okay, so try to remain relatively still and get some rest," she instructed, bustling about for a bit to gather all that she'd need to take with her. She placed a bottle of pills onto the side table. "Take those every four hours or as needed for pain."

"I already know this, Divya," Hank reminded.

"I know that you know that, but I wasn't sure if Boris did and since I trust Boris with your pain management more than I trust you, I was saying it for his benefit."

"Thank you, Ms. Katdare. I'm sure we will be alright while you're gone," Boris supplied, taking the bottle and pocketing it into his jacket.

"If you need to, feel free to call Evan," Divya added as though it were an afterthought.

"Divya, I'll be fine. I don't need to be babysat like a kindergartener who stayed home sick from school."

"Well excuse me, but I beg to differ," Divya argued. "I know you, Hank. You don't take care of yourself very well and right now, taking care of yourself and getting rest is the only thing that will help you heal and get you back your independence which I know you crave."

She pulled her ginormous back onto her shoulder and leaned down to give Hank a pat on the shoulder. She looked up and across Hank to Boris and said, "Call me if you need anything."

And with that she left, leaving Hank and Boris to their own devices.

Edward Lawson walked up to the front door of Shadow Pond. Evan had called last night to say that Henry was hurt. Of course, Evan hadn't been told what had happened but as far as Eddie was concerned, that wasn't important. What was important was making sure that Henry was alright with his own eyes and so, he'd told Newburg that he'd be back later and he'd come over to the castle as soon as he could.

He knocked, just now looking for a doorbell to use instead. He stepped back and fidgeted, wondering what to do with himself while he waited for someone to answer the door.

At last the door opened and a stuffy looking butler stood before him.

"Can I help you?" he asked, looking about as though wondering how Eddie had gotten in in the first place.

"Yeah, I'm here to see Hank," Eddie announced, putting on his best smile so as to soften the other man slightly. It didn't work. He remained exactly where he was, looking like he didn't plan on moving at all. "Evan told me that he was staying here and not down at the guesthouse."

"A moment," the butler said before closing the door and leaving Eddie exactly where he was.

Eddie paced, more than a little annoyed that he hadn't been led straight to his son. What? Did they guy have to check with Hank first? No, Hank wouldn't do that to him.. would he?

The door opened again and a different man stood before him this time.

"What can I do for you Mr. Lawson?"

The slight but determinable accent told Eddie exactly who stood before him – Boris Kuester von Jurgens-Ratenicz. The man was impressively dressed in a light grey suit, baby blue shirt and light grey tie. Eddie thought he could detect a slight hunch in the man's posture but given that he'd never met the man before, he couldn't be sure.

"Yes, hi, I'm Eddie R. Lawson, I'm here to see Hank." Eddie held out his hand for the other man to shake but instead of actually doing it, Boris looked down at the hand as though it were poison and remained where he was. When he remained silent, as though waiting for Eddie to explain more. Was it not good enough of a reason that he wanted to see his injured son?

When Eddie didn't give any further reason because he didn't believe he needed to, Boris finally answered.

"Unfortunately, Doctor Lawson is not available to receive visitors at the moment."

"Oh, is he now?" Eddie answered disbelievingly. "And does _Doctor _Lawson also know that I'm here?"

"Yes, actually," the other man answered, not at all sounding offended by Eddie's tone. "He was awake when Dieter came in but since then he has fallen asleep which, according to Ms. Katdare, is best for him right now."

"And did this much needed rest happen to be medically induced?" Eddie returned, not really trusting the man before him with his son. From what he heard from Evan, Boris was an enigma and not in a good way. He was secretive and distrustful. He played things close to the vest and he often did whatever he deemed to be necessary, to hell with the consequences to others. It seemed to Eddie that if Boris wanted to keep him from seeing his son for any reason, or from entering the house, he wouldn't hesitate to drug Hank in order to be able to say that he was asleep.

Boris smiled at him, not really answering him but giving Eddie the only answer he needed.

"Oh I see," Eddie answered and stepping away from the door. "You know what? I think I'm going to go down and talk to Evan about getting Henry removed from here."

"That is your prerogative, Mr. Lawson, but I assure you that the younger Lawson will not go with you."

Eddie opened his mouth, his lips forming an 'o', though he didn't voice the word itself. He nodded, processing what to say next.

"Well, I suppose we shall see."

Boris kept the smile on his face, appearing more mocking than friendly. It infuriated Eddie to see and so he turned and started walking down towards the guesthouse where he knew Evan was. He'd get Henry out of that house and back to where his family could look after him – that was for sure.

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

Divya marched down to the guesthouse, thoroughly annoyed with Evan and his father. After her latest appointment, she'd stopped by Shadow Pond to see how Hank was doing. It was then that Boris had informed her of Lawson Sr.'s visit. It hadn't taken her more than three seconds to connect Evan with said visit and it was only after she'd been filled in on how Hank was doing from Boris – Hank was asleep – that she started down towards the guesthouse to see exactly what was going through Evan's mind.

When she heard voices from inside, she stopped just outside the door to listen.

"Dad, I know that you want Hank moved from the big house, okay, I get it. But I can already tell you that Divya won't move him and, honestly, after seeing how he tolerated from being moved from room to room, I agree with her."

Well, that was interesting. It was a rare moment indeed when Evan agreed with her. It also sounded like he'd been going over this topic with his father ever since his father had tried to visit Hank and was started to get tired – or annoyed? – of going over the same subject.

"Well if Boris can drug Hank just so he can't see me, then can't we drug him so we can move him to the safety of his own home?"

What? Safety? Oh lord, did Eddie truly think that Boris drugged Hank against his will? Moron!

"Dad, come on," Evan scoffed, sounding disbelieving. "Boris is not drugging Hank. Hank wouldn't allow it, for one thing."

"But would he be able to fight off Boris in his, you know, current condition?" Eddie interrupted, insistent that Boris was doing Hank harm.

Hearing enough, Divya decided now was a good time to enter and, if need be, fully explain the situation.

"Okay, you can mark Mrs. Schwartz off the list – I took care of her immunizations, and I also treated Mr. Hartberry's sprained knee," she said, making it appear as though she hadn't realized that Evan wasn't alone. She looked at the two men, pretending to fake surprise as seeing the elder Lawson in the guesthouse as well. "Oh, sorry, I didn't realize that you weren't alone."

Try as she might, she couldn't make the latter sentence sound as friendly as she would have liked. Cold had begun to seep into her tone with every word that had escaped and so by the end, she sounded as angry as she felt.

Though her feelings towards Lawson Sr. were still undecided, they had been swayed by Hank and his feelings towards his father. She wanted to keep an open mind and hear out both brothers but she had always been closer to Hank than she had to Evan and she had heard Hank's side of things before she'd heard Evan's, leaving her with only one side of the story. Besides, though she could, in some way, understand Evan's need to reconnect with his father, she could not understand how he expected Hank to feel the same way after what the older brother had gone through when their father had left.

"Not a problem, consider me a vault," Eddie promised, pretending to zip his lips. For some reason, that didn't inspire confidence in her and so she chose to remain silent when it came to her patients. "Say, maybe you can help me. I went to visit Henry earlier-"

"Yes, I heard about your visit," Divya interrupted, not really in the mood to hear anything more. "And, no, I can't help you. Not only does Mr. Kuester von Jurgens-Ratenicz have the right to deny entry to any person that he should wish, but both Hank and I agree that it would not be advisable to move him at the moment."

She happily neglected the part where it had taken a lot of convincing and – unfortunately – a small bit of pain from his injuries to convince Hank of this fact and even afterwards she could tell that he wasn't happy about the decision.

Eddie's mouth fell open as though he were going to say something else but Divya ignored that fact – not really wanting to hear more – and rounded on Evan.

"And you," she said, her voice still even but her eyes blazing. "Evan, your brother needs rest to heal. Why would you invite your father over to check up on him when you knew that would only stress him out?"

"Now, you hang on just one minute," Eddie interrupted, obviously taking offence to her phrasing. "First of all, I am Hank's father and that gives me the right to know when he's been hurt. Second of all, my checking up on him was not of Evan's doing. And thirdly, what right do you have to yell at my son for doing something that was in no way wrong?"

For a moment, Divya just stared open-mouthed at the older man. She had trouble believing that anyone could be this naïve and yet, here was the proof that there was.

"First of all," she answered back, using the same phrasing that he'd just done and getting angrier every second, "I am Hank's doctor and that gives me the right to decide what is best for my patients and Evan conspiring to have you over was not it. And second of all, Hank hasn't considered you his father for a _very _long time and so as far as he's concerned, you don't have any right to know anything about him."

Once again Eddie opened his mouth to say something and so Divya interrupted him before he could, "And just so you know, Boris in no way drugged Hank 'just so you couldn't see him'. When he'd heard about you being at the front door, Hank had refused to see you and then had grown so angry at Evan for even telling you that he was at Shadow Pond that he tried to reach his phone to yell at him, which only ended in him causing himself more pain thus making it necessary for him to take his pain medication which, in turn, knocked him out so that you couldn't see him."

That shut the older man up and Divya couldn't be happier about it. Eddie's spine straightened after she'd finished – whether it was to gather what little pride he had left or to continue arguing, she couldn't tell – and walked into the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Evan asked, his panic at the fact that his father was leaving seeping into his tone.

"I'm leaving," Eddie simply stated, pulling on his jacket.

"Why?" Evan returned, not willing to let his father go without getting an answer.

"It's obvious I'm not welcome at your home and I don't want to outstay what little I've already had." The tone in his voice said that Eddie was merely trying to state the facts, but the words themselves were so obviously a parent-induced guilt trip that it had Divya rolling his eyes.

"No, no that's not what she's saying," Evan denied although that was exactly what she was saying. "Look, let me talk to Hank. I'm sure this is all some misunderstanding."

"Evan," Divya warned, barely able to refrain from growling at the man.

"Divs, no offence but this is between my father, my brother, and me."

Divya closed her mouth. It annoyed her that his words had hurt so terribly much, but there was no denying they had.

Realizing his mistake, Evan tried to backtrack.

"Okay, that came out harsher than I meant. What I meant was,"

"I know what you meant, Evan," Divya answered, looking away from both to hide a tear as it filled her eye. When she looked back at him, she had more control over her emotions, though barely. "Right now, that doesn't matter. What does matter is that you do not stress your brother out right now. He needs to rest and focus on healing."

She waited to see if the message had gotten through. Evan had shut his mouth and put his serious-face on, but other than that she had no indicator of whether or not it had and so she continued. "Now, I'm going to grab some lunch before I continue with the rest of the patients. Let me know if Hank needs anything."

"Divya," Evan called out, sounding as though he wanted to stop her and apologize but right now Divya didn't have any more patience for any of the Lawson family that wasn't Hank and so she walked out, letting the autumn breeze dry her eyes.

Boris slowly walked down the halls of the lower parts of the castle, taking care to appear perfectly healthy when he was in fact in pain.

Pain was nothing new to him as was the same with being injured. Over his years, Boris had angered many people, many powerful people, and many had attempted to exact their revenge. Sometimes the effects had been minimal – a bruise on the forehead, and a sore shoulder from a seatbelt. Other times the effects were dangerous – poisoning for one thing.

What he was not used to is having someone attempt to take care of him, even if they themselves are injured and are in need of care. Dieter did his best but there was only so much that Boris was willing to let his faithful employee do for him and medical care was not one of those things.

Boris' blood boiled at the thought of Hank lying in one of Boris' guest bedrooms, injured and in pain. He had rather hoped that Ivan would have dropped his grudge against Americans and at the very least treat Boris' guests with indifference, if not respect. But his actions towards Hank had begun at intolerable and had ended last evening with unforgiveable.

Now, it was time to start the termination process.

Hank lay in his assigned guest bed – king size nonetheless – reading over a couple patient's files and filing his reports within them. He'd been surprised when, after he'd asked, Dieter had gone to the guesthouse to get the files and laptop that he'd requested as he was pretty sure that Divya had told Boris that he wasn't to do any work for the rest of the week. Whether Boris, or perhaps Dieter himself, had ignored Divya's instructions, Hank didn't know – heck for all he knew Divya hadn't said any such thing – but at the moment he couldn't be more grateful.

It hurt his head to read the computer screen and it was hard to type with one hand and painful with two, but at least Hank felt useful and so it was worth the pain to him. Hank hated being idle, unable to do anything more than stare at the wall and shift around on the bed. Especially when all he wanted to do was go down to the guesthouse and rage at his brother.

Yes, he knew that Evan had called Eddie R. Now, it was obvious who Evan had been on the phone with the after he'd been told that Hank had been injured. Who else would Evan have called but their father? And perhaps if Eddie had behaved more like a father over the past years, Hank wouldn't have denied that the man had a right to know that he'd been hurt, but seeing as how Hank had essentially been the father ever since Eddie R. had left, he'd given up that right long ago. Now, he was nothing more than his father by blood and an estranged relative otherwise.

Hank had woken up in time to hear Divya leave, her footsteps sounding furious as she walked down the hall and stairs. He'd asked Boris what was going on and his friend had smiled at him but had indulged him and told him that he'd merely told Ms. Katdare about the morning's events, nothing more. He'd left shortly after that for 'a meeting', leaving Hank to work out what exactly he'd meant.

To his utter annoyance, it had taken Hank much too long to finally decipher that Divya had gone down to the guesthouse to yell at Evan and then it had taken him even longer to reach across the bed and get to his phone on the side table. By the time he'd finished he'd been panting from pain and hadn't head the strength or breath to do more than sit and wait for everything to calm down.

Now that he felt steadier overall, Hank dialed Divya's number.

"Hank, are you alright?" she answered, not even bothering to say hello.

"Yes, Divya, I'm fine," Hank assured, a smile on his face at the sheer amount of concern she was showing. "How about you? Is everything okay with you?"

There was a pause that lasted long enough to make Hank believe that his question, innocent though it had been, had felt loaded to her. When she at last spoke, there was something akin to suspicion in her voice that Hank didn't like.

"Everything's fine, why?"

The smile faded from Hank's face as his more serious side took over.

"Divya, what happened?"

There was another pause in which Hank could hear the turning signal on her jeep beep in the background and then the noise that you hear when the other person is driving died to leave only silence.

"Nothing," Divya answered, a smile coming through the line. "Look, Hank, I've got to go. Mrs. Moran has asked me to stop by in between appointments to check on little Charlie's stitches."

"Okay, yeah, sure, uhm, let me know if you need anything," Hank replied dumbly, feeling as though he were getting the brush off.

"Just get some rest, Hank," Divya said in return before hanging up.

What the heck was that about? Had something happened while she'd been talking to Evan?

Unfortunately the best way to get answers was from Evan, himself. Sighing in resignation, Hank sent Evan a text, asking him to come for a visit. Evan was either expecting this or was just really eager to see him because it hadn't taken more than a minute before he received a response of 'be there soon!'

Now all Hank had to do was sit and wait for his brother to arrive.

**TBC**

* * *

**K, I know this is short but I want the conversation between brothers to be one chapter on its own. Sorry that it's so short but I hope you like the chapter anyways, **

**M**


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